Mad
by SherlocksTeffers
Summary: John Watson is brought to New Haven Psychiatric Hospital after Mary finds him with a gun after months of depression symptoms. He is utterly devastated over the loss of his friend Sherlock Holmes and realizes he needs extra care to learn to understand how to live life without Sherlock. Only thing is there is a surprise awaiting him at the hospital, will said surprise make or break h
1. Chapter 1

John Watson is brought to New Haven Psychiatric Hospital after Mary finds him with a gun after months of depression symptoms. He is utterly devastated over the loss of his friend Sherlock Holmes and realizes he needs extra care to learn to understand how to live life without Sherlock. Only thing is there is a surprise awaiting him at the hospital, will said surprise make or break him?

Welcome to New Haven

"John It's for the best." Mary said to her boyfriend as they walked up the steps of New Haven psychiatric hospital. He was dragging his rolling suitcase up the stairs like he was walking to the gallows.

John looked at Mary with tired sad eyes and nodded his head. "You're right." He said as they walked in the front doors of the rather daunting looking old English building. It kind of reminded John of Bart which he never though looked very therapeutic from the outside. "I'm just not sure I can lose you too."

She looked confused as they walked up to the front desk. "Lose me?"

He nodded his head. "Yeah in this place."

Mary was going to say something encouraging when she was interrupted by a nice looking young man dressed in jeans and a polo shirt definitely not something Mary had expected. The only thing that told her that he was an orderly, doctor or some other form of authority was the nametag clipped to his shirt.

"You must be John…John Watson." The man said with a bright smile. "Welcome to New Haven."

John looked at the man like he had completely lost his mind, but then remembered it was obviously HE who had lost his mind. Clearing his throat he nodded. "I'm John Watson." He looked at Mary. "This is my girlfriend Mary."

"Nice to meet both of you, my name is Chris and I am an orderly here and the person who is going to help you check in." he said and glanced at the clock. "Seeing the nature of the hour you probably won't be seeing any doctors of therapists tonight but myself and the other orderlies will definitely help you get situated."

"Thank you." John said and found he was honestly thankful. It was then he remembered something and looked at Mary. "You can leave now…I don't want you to see me like this, at least not for a while."

Mary looked at Chris who simply shrugged his shoulders and let the two figure things out. "Are you sure?"

John nodded, "I can do this…I NEED to do this." That night had been the final straw when Mary had come home to find him sitting with his gun to his head. Thankfully she had been calm and collected and had got him to agree to call the emergency crisis line they both knew about from work. While on the crisis like New Haven came up and John agreed to take himself to the hospital at least for a few days of observation.

"Okay then," Mary said as she gave him a gentle kiss on the lips and with a heavy heart and teary eyes exited the building.

"So John since it's almost 10pm why don't we get through your check-in process and let you get some sleep." Chris said and then realized he had been very rude. "I'm sorry is it okay that I call you John."

John actually chuckled at that, "It's my name." he said as he walked with Chris down the hall to a room that said 'intake' on the door. What he was surprised about was that he didn't see any other patients wondering the hallways and even more surprised when Chris seemed to get what he was thinking.

"We're not in the area where the dorms are located quite yet. We will go there in a few minutes."

"I see." John said as he took a seat when asked and began answering all the questions that were thrown in his direction. The one he found the hardest was 'what brings you here tonight?' He proceeded to tell Chris that he had been depressed for the past year since his best friend had committed suicide and how today was the anniversary of said friend's death.

"So you tried to shoot yourself."

"Yes."

"Are you feeling suicidal right now?" Chris asked sounding to actually care about his response and John was realizing he didn't mind this experience as much as he thought he would, at least people were nice. It made it easier for him to nod his head and answer with a 'yes' to the suicidal question.

"Okay," Chris said with a small smile. "Nothing to be ashamed of…we just need to work on that." He said as he got out a couple of hospital bracelets and attached them to John's arm. "Okay how about we head to the dorms and get you settled in your room?"

"Do we share rooms?"

Chris laughed and shook his head in the negative. "Oh thank good heavens no. This hospital has three floors with two wards each. Each ward has five beds…or rooms I should say."

"Oh that's rather intimate." John said as he followed after Chris who was jabbering on about how another orderly or nurse would bring him scrubs to change in for the night until they could check in his belongings.

"I might warn you they might keep you in the scrubs for another couple days since you are a suicide risk."

John didn't really like the idea of not wearing his own clothes but since all he had really packed was pajama bottoms and sweats he figured it didn't rightly matter.

Soon they got to the dorms or ward as it was also called and Chris unlocked the door letting both of them inside.

There John was surprised to find a long hallway that held doors that he figured held bedrooms since as he counted there appeared to be five like Chris had said. At the end of the hall there was some long tables with chairs around it and then some reclining loungers by a window with magazines and coloring pages on a table. Oh and the part John already liked the most was the fish tank that was on one wall by the loungers.

"See not too scary." Chris said with a smile as they stood so John could look around. "Down that hall are group rooms like a music room an art room and a TV room."'

"Nurses' station?" John questioned pointing at the closed in glass area in front of him.

Chris nodded, "Yup, if you have any questions people should be back there to help you."

"My room?"

"Of course," Chris led John back the way they came and stopped at room 215 and opened the door. "Here you go." He told the other man. "If you need extra blankets or pillows don't be afraid to ask. Also again somebody will be by with scrubs for you to wear at least until tomorrow."

"Okay," John said as he walked into the room and flopped onto the bed, sitting on the edge. He was so bone weary that he was sure he would fall right to sleep once he was allowed to.

It took about 20 minutes before a young female came to the door with a smile on her face. "Hi John…I'm Stephanie I've got some scrubs for you." She said holding up the green material. "I know they are not very attractive but right now safety comes first you know."

"Right." John said as he took the garments. It was then he thought of something. He had done a suicide prevention class for work and sighed, "Undergarment off too?"

Stephanie gave him a small nod, "I'll leave you to it. And then return for your clothes."

John quickly changed into his new attire and folded the clothes he came in wearing on the bed. He prayed Stephanie or somebody else would come back soon so he could get to sleep.

Sure enough only five minutes later Stephanie knocked on the door and when John acknowledged her she came into the room holding a few other items. "I brought you a toothbrush, toilet paper and soap for the bathroom sink."

"Thanks." John said as he took the odd thing of toilet paper that was missing the roll. 'What in the world could I do to hurt myself with a roll of cardboard?' he thought to himself and then chuckled out loud when he envisioned himself covered in paper cuts.

Stephanie gave him an odd look but didn't say anything as she took his belongings. "Have a good night John. Do try and sleep and if you are not able come to the nurses' station and somebody will get you something to help."

John nodded his head as he watched Stephanie go. Sighing he pulled back the slightly scratchy blankets and climbed into bed. Fluffing his pillow he lay down and tried to rest. Thankfully after only ten minutes he was out like a light.

Meanwhile down the hallway another man was tossing and turning in his bed unable to sleep. Something on the ward seemed off but he couldn't put his finger on it. Everything seemed quiet but something was wrong. Getting out of bed he pulled on some gripper socks and headed out the door. He walked to the main portion of the ward and found Stephanie folding towels at the table. He honestly had NO idea why the orderlies were doing a task such as this but he didn't say anything.

Stephanie turned and smiled, "Having trouble sleeping Sherlock?"

"Yes," Sherlock said as he looked around for what felt amiss. "Did something happen?"

"No…" Stephanie looked at the older man confused. "Everything has been calm tonight."

Sherlock flopped into one of the chairs and crossed his legs at the knee. "Something is different and I cannot figure out what it is." The detective in him had him looking at the situation as a case. When things got like this the orderlies got slightly nervous.

Stephanie stopped her folding to go sit next to Sherlock. "Sherlock everything is okay on the ward, we even got a new patient, it's been a while since that has happened. Maybe you can make a new friend."

Stephanie's words completely caught Sherlock's attention and he sat up quickly. "That's it! a new patient, that is what is wrong. He didn't focus on the mention of making a friend, he didn't have friends, not anymore"

"Why does that mean something is wrong?"

Sherlock shook his head, "Not wrong…but different."

"Maybe you can get to sleep now." Stephanie suggested. "I can get you a nurse to maybe get you some Trazadone or Melatonin if you need it."

"I'm fine." Sherlock said which Stephanie assumed he would say. It was impossible to get Sherlock to take his medications that were regularly prescribed let alone something 'as needed'

Stephanie nodded. "Okay well then back to bed with you. You can meet your new ward-mate in the morning."

Sherlock still looked a bit uneasy about the whole thing but ended up back in his bed in room 214, looking at the wall that was facing John's room. Yes something weird was definitely going on, Stephanie just did not know it.


	2. Chapter 2

John woke the next morning with a crink in his back and a splitting headache. He rubbed at his face and found traces of tears and sighed. He must have had one of his dreams again without realizing it. Sighing he got out of bed, used the bathroom and then figured he might as well wonder out of his room and see what he could see.

What he could see wasn't very much. The main parts of the ward were still dimly lit which told him it was much earlier than he expected. Groaning he went to the nurses' station to figure out the time since he couldn't find a clock anywhere. When he was about to knock on the glass to ask the time he noticed a clock on the wall and it read 6:45am. This wasn't as bad as he expected so he decided to knock after all and figure out what he was supposed to do. He planned on being the model patient and follow all the rules even if that meant staying in his small room for the next hour or so.

A young male nurse answered his knock with a smile. "Hello there, you must be John."

"I am." John replied with a nod. "Sorry to bother you but I wanted to make sure it was okay if I'm out here since it's early."

The nurse smiled even more, "You're fine John. We have books and magazines and coloring pages if you like that sort of thing."

John had to wonder if the nurse should be a patient with how fast he talked but he didn't say that of course. It was then John thought of something. "Do you have something for a headache?"

"Of course." The nurse said. "I will get right on that."

"Thank you," John moved away from the window and headed over to where the magazines and things were kept. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to read in the dim lighting but he didn't complain just sat in one of the reclining chairs and waited for his pain medicine.

At around 7:30am more action began on the ward. John deducted that the day orderlies and nurses had arrived and were receiving reports from the night staff. At about this same time John saw his first fellow patient a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties. She walked right over to him which he found rather unnerving but didn't say anything.

"Hello I'm Jennifer, who are you?" The young woman questioned her blue eyes full of curiosity.

John wanted to chuckle but didn't instead he introduced himself and started up a conversation with the younger woman. "I'm John, how are you doing this morning Jennifer?"

Jennifer was rather shocked John was speaking with her but quickly recovered and began talking all about a dream she had earlier that morning. As they talked a nurse came walking in their direction with a little paper pill cup and gave John a smile.

"Good morning John, I'm Sandra and I have some medication for a headache if you would still like it." a middle aged nurse said still all smiles. John realized that everybody around this place was all smiles. Normally he wouldn't mind that but when feeling so low himself it was kind of annoying to see others so upbeat. But then again nobody would really want a cranky nurse or orderly member, especially in a mental hospital.

"John?"

"Hmm?" John shook out of his thoughts a bit disoriented. "Yes?"

"Would you like the medication for your headache?"

John simply nodded his head and took the pills before turning back to Jennifer who was looking at him curiously.

"Why you here?" The young woman questioned.

John sighed, "I have depression, my best mate died last year, guess I haven't gotten on too well since then." He hated bringing up what brought him there but he also didn't want to upset Jennifer. He got a feeling she could be interesting if upset.

"I see…I'm bulimic." She told him after a second of silence, something John was mostly enjoying. His head was still pounding, but he again was trying to be nice. "I'm sorry to hear that." He replied to her admission.

Jennifer shrugged, "Is what it is I suppose."

"Jennifer you have a phone call." An orderly said from the other side of the room.

She actually squealed and ran off in the other direction leaving John alone again for a second at least.

The time didn't last because a minute later (or less) an orderly came walking over and sat down next to him. "Good morning, I'm Hank." The aging man told John. "I will be one orderlies working with you until around 3pm."

"Okay." John said and tried to smile politely "Nice to meet you Hank." He glanced down the hallway that held to bedrooms curious what interesting person he would meet next. His curiosity must have shown on his face because Hank chuckled.

"Everybody else should be waking up in a few minutes. Breakfast should be here in 20."

The thought of food made John's stomach roll but he smiled and nodded anyway.

"Hey Hank!" A middle aged man said as he walked up to John and Hank, butting into their conversation which John was okay with quite frankly. The man looked at John and raised an eyebrow. "Are you a patient or a doctor?"

"Both." Both John and Hank said causing everybody to laugh despite themselves.

"I'm a doctor but a patient right now." John tried to explain. He didn't add that he hadn't been practicing medicine since HE died and the depression had started year ago.

"I see." The man said and held out his hand. "I'm Charlie."

John shook the outstretched hand, "Hi Charlie, I'm John." He really hoped he could remember names but was thankful there must only be 4 other people to remember if there was 5 rooms on the ward and he was included in that 5.

Before breakfast Charlie proceeded to tell John his whole life story, which sounded rather rough and extremely annoying to John but he figured that was because now that his head was feeling better his stomach was waking up and the prospect of breakfast actually sounded good to him for once. BUT the doctor in him listened intently to what the man had to say.

From the sounds of it Charlie had been in and out of hospital since he was a boy due to developmental delays and problem behaviors due to that. John cringed a bit when he mentioned disrobing and getting in fights. That was all John did NOT need was to get in a fight but knowing his temperament at times if Charlie started something than John would finish it and he knew that about himself.

"Come on Charlie let John relax a little this is his first morning with us." Hank said rolling his eyes and mouthing 'I'm sorry' to John for Charlie spilling his guts to John so early in the morning and so quickly after meeting him.

John shrugged his shoulders and again was about to say something when he had somebody shyly come up to him. This was another young woman who looked awful in John's mind. It wasn't that she wasn't beautiful because she was she just looked very, very sad. "Hello." He said to her since all she was doing was looking at him and actually from a slight distance which was different compared to the other two people he met that morning.

"That is Tasha she doesn't talk much." Hank explained when the woman didn't say anything to him. "Very sweet girl though if you can get her talking."

For some reason John could tell what Hank said to be true and nodded his head in understanding.

Breakfast came and went and was a pretty calm experience. Jennifer of course ate her food but disappeared quickly, orderlies having to deal with that. Charlies continued to talk John's ear off and Tasha quietly ate her food, but ate all of it so John ruled out an eating disorder for her. It was halfway through breakfast when there was a commotion down the hall.

"I'm not hungry I don't want to eat." Came a man's deep baritone voice.

John froze with his spoon of cooked oats halfway to his mouth, he knew that voice but now had to believe his depression had gotten so bad he was hallucinating.

"John?" Hank questioned when he saw the look of pure horror cross John's face and the cooked oats dripping onto his scrub top. "John what's wrong?"

Just then the source of the voice made himself known by storming into the eating area, his robe blowing behind him. "I'm not going to eat." He told Hank as he sat down at the table, arms crossed over his head.

"No."

Hank turned back to John and seriously thought the other man was going to be sick. "John…mate do you need to go lie down for a bit you look ill."

John shook his head in the negative as he stared across the table at the man he was sure had died. There was no way in God's green earth that he was sitting across from him. It all had to be in his mind. "You're not real."

This caught the man, Sherlock's, attention and it was his turn to look across the table with wide eyes and going even more pail than normal. "J…John?"

"Sherlock?"


	3. Chapter 3

John Watson was shocked, no completely and utterly baffled but more than anything he was pissed royally pissed. It only took him a second to really figure out in his mind what was going on and in that second he was charging across the table and strangling who he used to say was his best mate. Now he wanted nothing more than to actually kill Sherlock Bloody Holmes.

"John!" Hank exclaimed as he rushed over and pulled the man off of Sherlock.

John struggled against the orderly to the point that other orderlies had to come in and help hold him. "You're going to pay for this…fucking pay!" he yelled at Sherlock who was being taken care of by one of the nurses. John hoped he had crushed something because he was pissed and even though he normally came off meek and mild you really do not want to mess with John Watson when he was pissed.

"John calm down or we're going to have to put you into a seclusion room." Hank said gently even though he was struggling with the irate man.

"Lemmie at him." John continued to scream. "He should be dead!"

The rest of the patients on the ward were looking on in disbelief. Normally everybody on ward 3 was calm and chill, well except for when Sherlock got in a mood.

"I am not sure I like him." Jennifer said to Charles and Tasha. She of course would have included Sherlock but he was still getting medical attention.

"Fuck YOU Sherlock Homes!" John continued his rant and sadly the orderlies began walking him in the direction of the seclusion room due to his aggressive and disruptive behaviors.

Before John really understood what was going on he was being walked into a room and then a door was closed and locked. He understood quickly from his days in medical school. "I have just been secluded…" he said to himself and of course this just added to his fowl mood. "You guys are all a bunch of dick heads! He screamed to the orderlies he figured were still on the other side of the door.

Over the next ten minutes or so he screamed, kicked the wall and royally cursed out Sherlock and anything he could think of to with Sherlock. Finally by the time ten minutes rolled around though he was tired, wore out even and it was only 9am. Sighing he walked to the door and peaked out the window there. He found out that Hank and another man was on the other side leaning against the wall as if waiting for him. "I…I'm done now." He said meaning done throwing the fit he was now quite embarrassed about. He wouldn't be surprised if nobody on the ward would ever talk to him again.

"Ten more minutes John then we'll talk." Hank told him.

John scrunched up his face in confusion. "What's in ten minutes?"

"Just protocol."

"Right." John said as he sat on the floor against the wall and waited…and waited…and waited and then finally the door opened and Hank and the stranger walked in. He didn't tell him to get up so he stayed put.

"You really outdid yourself this morning." Hank said as he sank to the floor next to John. "Care to explain?"

John was flabbergasted didn't they understand what was going on and who in the world was the middle aged man with Hank and why hadn't the introduced him? Sighing he slightly glared at the other man…for reasons he was unsure of. "Who is HE?"

The man smiled, "I am Doctor Hillard, I will be your psychiatrist while you are here at New Haven. I am sorry we are not meeting under better terms though." He said looking around the small vacant room. "But I am here now anyway so we are going to have a little chat."

"I'm not sure I want to talk with you." John answered honestly and looked at Hank. "Can I talk with Hank?"

"Hank can be in the room, but you and I will need to be the ones talking. See it's protocol after a patient has been placed in the seclusion room for me to talk to them. Also, we're due for that chat this morning anyway. BUT let's see if we can get protocol out of the way and then moved to another space that is much more inviting." Doctor Hillard said smiling.

John sighed, "Fine."

"So first off care to explain why you almost strangled another patient and then threw a hissy fit with my orderlies?"

John snorted in laughter, "Is 'hissy fit' a technical term, doctor?"

"John you are not answering my question. What happened at breakfast to bring on this behavior?"

"Sherlock bloody Holmes." John spot and felt himself getting worked up again. "The blood Git is supposed to be fucking dead."

"Dead you say?" Doctor Hillard questioned with a raised eyebrow.

John stood up and began pacing the room, "Yes dead as in as a door nail. I saw him jump, I saw him fall and I saw his lifeless, bleeding body. Oh and I was at his funeral. Doctor Hillard Sherlock Holmes was my best mate in the world before he left me. It is the depression that caused that has me here now. You can imagine sir, that I would be rather pissy that he appears to be alive and kicking just hiding out in a mental institution."

"John I understand you are upset that it appears your friend misled you, but let me also tell you that Sherlock has been with us for 6 months now and is a very ill man."

"What was he doing for the other 6 months and why didn't he tell me he was back from the dead?" John exclaimed even though he knew it sounded ridiculous.

"Maybe you could ask him rather than try and injure him." Doctor Hillard stated with a raised eyebrow, a slight smile on his face.

John snorted, "I am NOT talking to my should be dead best mate." As he said it this time he did realize how ridiculous he sounded and sighed. "I won't talk with Sherlock." He thought of something. "I doubt he will talk to me."

"Well you are going to have a hard time ignoring each other if you live together." Doctor Hillard pointed out and watched John make a face. "Neither you nor Sherlock are going anywhere any time soon so you'll have to talk."

Meanwhile Sherlock was pacing the bedroom hallway and every once and a while glancing in the direction of the seclusion room that John had just entered a few minutes before. He couldn't believe it John Watson was a patient at New Haven, the hospital Sherlock himself had been staying in since he returned from Serbia (Yes I know in Cannon Sherlock didn't come home until 2 years after the fall). He had told Mycroft to tell John he was back and he was okay but that must have never happened. Also he was anything but okay…so everybody tells him.

"Sherlock you need to calm down too or you're going to get yourself all worked up." Maggie another orderly said trying to get Sherlock to calm.

"Why is he here, Maggie?" Sherlock asked looking at the orderly with questioning blue eyes. "Why is John in a mental hospital?" he had a good feeling John would be wondering the same thing about him.

"Why don't you talk to HIM about that?"

"Because he is in bloody seclusion." Sherlock exclaimed as he started pacing again.

"Sherlock have you had your pills yet this morning?" Maggie asked gently knowing this was a sensitive subject for the pacing individual.

Sherlock stopped for a second to glare at Maggie. "It is only 9am I do not get my pills until closer to 10am."

"Right." Maggie said trying not to smile. Of course she knew the ward's favorite and most challenging patients schedule by now. "Well may I suggest getting them earlier so you can talk to John when he returns to the floor?"

"No…thank you." The creature of habit stated as he ran a hand through is unruly black curls. "But seriously why is Doctor John Watson seeking inpatient psychiatric treatment."

"I tried to kill myself."

Sherlock turned to find John standing behind him with Doctor Hillard at his side and Hank standing by just in case things went crazy again. "Why would you do a bloody thing like that?"

"My best mate killed himself." John said his hands clenched at his side, obvious he was far from calm. He had rehearsed a million times what he would say or do if he ever got the opportunity to speak to Sherlock again and now he was finding it impossible to say anything of the things or do any of the things he had planned. He hadn't expected to be so angry and definitely hadn't counted on the setting. Thinking of that had him realize something. He still didn't know why Sherlock was there. "Why are you here?"

"On this Planet? In London?"

Yes he was as frustrating as every but there was something else there that wasn't the same. "Why are you here at the hospital…but those other questions are good too."

Sherlock spent a good twenty minutes explaining how he had faked his own death so he could chase after Moriarty's gang. There were quick mentions of masks, dead bodies and hypnosis. Then talk of travels around the world searching out Moriarty's turned into talk of abuse and hospital stays.

"Hold on you were in the hospital in Serbia?" John stopped his fast talking…friend.

"Yes." Sherlock said. "Awful experience thank God for Mycroft." He made a face at that. "Please don't tell him that I said that."

"Won't."

Maggie stood back with Doctor Hillard. They were all pleased with how things were going, but were all ready for that to change since things seemed to do that around the hospital.

"So Mycroft was in on it?" John said in disbelief. Sure, he wasn't friendly with the politician but he figured he would at least say something if Sherlock wasn't really dead!

Sherlock nodded his head, "And Molly and a couple of select members of my homeless friends."

"Bloody hell Sherlock!" John exclaimed and quickly lowered his voice when he noticed the orderlies seem to shift into action. "You've been alive all this time and now you are in a mental hospital…seriously in a hospital or is this a case or something?"

Sherlock sighed, "Seriously here."

"Reason?"

"You want my diagnosis?"

"Would be nice."

Sherlock glanced at the orderlies and Doctor Hillard before back at John. "BPD & ASD."

John rolled his eyes, "Sherlock I haven't studied psychiatry in years, try that in real words."

Without exactly thinking Maggie spoke up. "Bipolar Disorder and Autism Spectrum Disorder."

"I see." John said as he took in the information. He understood completely the Autism diagnosis but was a big surprised at the Bipolar but then again the more he thought about it the more he had seen the signs and symptoms of that one for years too.

"Would you boys like to go finish your breakfasts so you can join morning meeting in a few minutes?" The nurse who had looked after Sherlock questioned as she walked into the area. "We can heat up your cereal in the microwave."

"Not hungry." Both Sherlock and John said at the same time actually causing them to both smile.

The nurse sighed she really hoped John didn't turn out to be another one she had to throw food down his throat.

Hank cleared his throat, "She's right though guys we have morning meeting in a few minutes so if you want to head to the art room that would be good."

"It smells." Sherlock said standing firmly in his spot by the bedrooms.

"Smells?" Hank questioned.

Sherlock nodded, "Yes and John doesn't like strong smells."

Hank looked at John, "It just smells like paint, are you okay with that?"

"Oh believe me I have had worse smells going through my home when living with this Git so I can handle some paint smells."

"I cannot." Sherlock spoke up. "It is awful."

Hank sighed in exasperation. "Sherlock you have been in the art room twice, maybe three times a day for the past 6 months."

"I never said I wasn't going or anything." Sherlock said eyeing Hank funny.

"Could have fooled me."

John was finding this conversation rather humorous but figured he would butt in. "Um guys don't we have a meeting?" he looked to Sherlock. "And YOU my dear friend are going to show me around today."

Sherlock stopped in his tracks and looked at John, "But Charlie does that…I don't do that."

"Sherlock I am sure Charlie won't mind." Maggie said gently.

Getting flustered Sherlock ran a hand through his hair. "O…okay."

This was weird for John to see…really see. It had been there all those years but now he was just really seeing it. Sherlock wasn't on a case or holding up in a hospital for the fun of it he was actually sick.


	4. Chapter 4

"But Tasha leads the morning meeting." Sherlock said from his spot at the long table located in the art room.

John was sitting next to him holding the morning meeting agenda in his hands. He didn't WANT to read the paper but Hank and Maggie were insisting that he do so to get a 'feel for things'. The only problem was Sherlock was practically whining about the fact that he was going to 'run' the meeting. "I don't have to…" He said passing the paper to his left where Tasha was sitting.

"Sherlock, John is going to read the morning meeting agenda, Tasha will read the non-violence agreement." Maggie said but could already feel something brewing in the tall, curly haired gentlemen.

Sherlock stood up, grabbed the paper from John and threw it at Tasha. "Read it."

"Sherlock…" Hank said in a warning tone.

"Don't 'Sherlock' me." He said shaking his head, "This is not how it works…not at all." With that he walked out of the room his robe flowing behind him.

He wasn't sure why, maybe it was habit? But whatever reason John got up and rushed after Sherlock even as orderlies were calling to him to stop and come back.

John found Sherlock standing in front of one of the big picture windows that looked out onto the grounds of the hospital. "What was that?"

"What?"

"You know what I mean."

Sherlock turned to look at John, "I like things done the right way…you leading the morning meeting is not the right way."

John sighed, "Sherlock sometimes things are different."

"They aren't supposed to be." Sherlock replied as he moved away from the window. "I'm going to lie down." With that he left John wondering what in the world was going on.

John continuously looked down the hallway leading to Sherlock's bedroom as he tried to color a picture of a butterfly with Jennifer and Tasha later that morning. He wasn't sure how he had gotten roped into the coloring session with the girls but either way his heart wasn't in it.

"We're better off without him coming out." Jennifer said to John. She could tell the older man was looking for his 'friend' by the way he was looking in the right direction.

"What?"

"Sherlock, we're better off if he stays in his room."

John really didn't like the sound of that, mostly because he could never KEEP Sherlock in his bedroom when they had shared the Baker Street flat now he was actually spending time in it? "He stay in there a lot?"

"Not enough." Charlie said from where he was seated reading a book.

"Oh be nice." Tasha warned playfully. "He isn't that bad."

"Can be." Jennifer said making a face. "Don't you remember yesterday…"

John really didn't want to hear the gossip about his friend so he decided to go 'check on' said friend. He situated his oh so fashionable scrubs and walked to Sherlock's room. He knocked on the door and waited for a response. Even though they knew each other in the past he figured it was against the rules to walk into each other's rooms, especially without being asked in.

Sherlock sat on his bed writing in his journal when there was a knock on his door. "What?" he asked in a bored tone, but not necessarily unfriendly.

"It's John…can I come in?"

"Not really." Sherlock said not making any move to leave the spot on his bed.

John sighed from the other side of the door. "Sherlock I'm sorry if I upset you this morning…with everything, please talk with me."

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock put down his notebook and carried his pen to the door. "Have to check-out the pens."

"What?" John was surprised to have Sherlock at the door and then didn't understand the pen reference until he saw the writing utensil in his friend's hand. "Oh we cannot have them without checking them out?"

Sherlock nodded, "Well not in our rooms anyway and YOU might not be able to have one anyway…suicide risk and all."

"How did you know…"

"You told me this morning you tried to commit suicide and that color of green has never suited you." Sherlock said nodding to John's scrubs.

"Oh...right." John also looked at his clothes. "Said I could probably have my own things tonight."

"Not after what you pulled this morning." Sherlock smirked.

John glared. "You fucking scared me to death first with the whole 'I'm dead' thing and then showing up at the same bloody hospital as me. You know my temper."

"Yes I do." Sherlock walked with John to the nurse' station and turned in his pen. "How about I tell you things."

"Huh?"

Sherlock looked around the ward, "About the ward so you aren't completely lost like normal."

John rolled his eyes but nodded. "Okay tell me."

"Well you know you cannot have pens in your room without checking them out the same goes with anything else sharp."

"What about shaving?"

"Once a week with an orderly watching." Sherlock said and then glanced behind him at Jennifer and Tasha. "Same goes for the girls."

John made a face thinking of the poor girls having to sit with another person to shave their legs and underarms. "Right so pens and shaving…"

"We can watch movies in the TV room anytime we want to as long as it's not a group or a meal." Sherlock continued. "The art room sadly is closed unless there is a group going because of the nature of the items in it."

This John understood and he nodded his head. "Makes sense."

"The orderlies are normally very nice and work well with the patients but sometimes the nurses' can be rude."

"Sherlock!"

That was Hank, who had happened to be walking by.

"You just don't like them because they give you medicine you don't want."

Sherlock shrugged

John couldn't help but laugh but then decided to ask a question more personal. "Why are you on medication and what are you on?"

"Lots of reasons and lots of meds." Sherlock said showing he wasn't going to talk about that subject by his body language. He then noticed something and smirked. "Speaking of meds here comes the doctor and by the look of things it's for you."

John remembered Doctor Hillard had said he would talk with him later on so Sherlock was probably right. "I guess I will talk with you later."

"Guess so." Sherlock said as the doctor approached them. "Ta ta." He turned and walked the other way.

"John can we speak for a couple of moments?" Doctor Hillard questioned with a kind smile.

"Okay…"

Doctor Hillard led John to a small room off across from the art and TV rooms. Inside the room there were two wing back chairs a small table and various colorful photographs hanging on the walls. It was a rather comforting room with soft lighting and John felt safe the second he stepped inside which he found a bit weird since here he was about to meet with a psychiatrist, definitely not one of his favorite types of people.

Doctor Hillard closed the door after flipping a sign on the front of it that said 'In Session.' Once he took a seat John did the same and they looked at each other in silence for a second.

"You wanted to talk?" John asked trying to not get frustrated since all he wanted to do was run out of the room…nothing against the room.

"Yes I do." Doctor Hillard said with a smile. "I am trying to decide if I should be worried by your behavior this morning since I have not seen any of that behavior in the past few hours."

John sighed, "I told you why I did that."

Doctor Hillard nodded, "Right…Sherlock coming back from the dead." He then added. "But is your temper normally that strong?"

"Sometimes," John admitted thinking of all the times he had gotten mad at Sherlock over the years. Sometimes to the point of kicking chairs and other furniture. He told Doctor Hillard of these situations and he wrote them down on a pad of paper.

"I think I hear a pattern." Doctor Hillard said with a smile.

"What?"

"Sherlock Holmes MAKES you display outlandish behaviors."

John rolled his eyes, "Well yes that is obvious. I cannot live with him or without him."

"John have you ever found yourself liking Sherlock on a different level?"

'Yes I want to fuck his brains out.' John said to himself but in reality he stood up and charged for the door. "That is not a good question Doctor, I am leaving." With that he stormed out of the room only ten minutes after they started.

Of course the first person he bumped into…literally…was Sherlock. Both of them fell to the floor, John on top of Sherlock looking down at him.

"Guys!" Hank exclaimed as he walked over and plucked John off of a shocked Sherlock. When John was safely on his own feet again he helped Sherlock up. "John where's the fire?"

"Sorry," John honestly. "I didn't mean to." He was afraid they were going to seclude him again for bumping into somebody on accident.

Hank smiled, "It's all good John, just be careful. Now how would you guys like to go outside?"

"We can go outside?" John questioned both Hank and Sherlock who actually both nodded their heads. "Oh that's kind of cool."

Over the next few minutes Maggie, Hank and a new orderly named Carl gathered everybody up and they all headed up the main door, down the stairs and out into a fenced in yard.

"Okay everybody stay within eyesight of at least one of us. We'll be out for probably half an hour." Carl stated before heading over to a locker and got out basketballs and other various things to 'play' with.

"I feel like I'm in primary school." John stated as he saw the Frisbees and basketballs. "But kind of cool."

"I mostly just wonder around." Sherlock admitted. "Not much for basketballs and flying disks."

"No I guess you wouldn't be." John said but smirked, "But your favorite game in the whole world is 'Operation'. Anybody here know that?"

Sherlock glared at John but didn't say anything. Instead he started to do what he said he did and that was wonder around. This time though he had a shadow with him. He wanted to ask John why he was following him everywhere but deducted two things. One was that John was new and needed somebody to show him around and two was that John was used to following him around outside the hospital, why not follow him around on the inside as well?

"Real sorry about trampling you earlier." John said as they walked around the few paths they had in the fenced in area.

Sherlock shrugged, "No harm done…but what had you rushing out of your meeting with Doctor Hillard like that?" he asked curiously.

John blushed bright red, "Oh nothing…he just got to me so I left."

"Nothing doesn't leave you blushing like that, John." Sherlock pointed out, trying to get John to talk. He used to be able to get John to admit anything and everything.

"It was nothing," John said not budging one bit because there was no way he was going to tell Sherlock that he wanted him in the worst way possible and had since they first met. As he thought this he thought of Mary and he felt sick to his stomach. He DID love her but he would always love Sherlock…he just never planned on telling him. "Let's play basketball."

Sherlock did not understand the topic change and he was sure he had already said he did not play with basketballs. "John…"

"I know you don't play…well I don't either but it sounds like a good way to get some exercise."

"Basketball?"

"Yes."

Maggie, Carl and Hank looked on in complete and utter shock to see Sherlock Holmes playing basketball, or at least shooting hoops anyway. They had to laugh a little because it was obvious Sherlock was playing the game for the sake of his friend not because he really wanted to play.

"Sherlock you're good at this." John said as he watched his friend make yet another basket.

"Can we be quite done?" Sherlock questioned not taking the praise like he always did. "I need to take my normal walk before we have to go in."

John got the idea that Sherlock wanted to be alone so he nodded at the other man and then headed over to talk with Charlie. He did talk with the other man for a minute before his eyes focused on Sherlock who was wondering the other side of the yard looking flustered and anything but happy. "What in the world is wrong with him now?" he questioned out loud but really meant to simply think it.

Charlie laughed, "What ISN'T wrong with Sherlock? That guy is simply strange. Like right now I bet he is trying to 'solve a case' on the mating patterns of ants."

John didn't laugh as he watched Sherlock, yeah something was really off with his best mate.


	5. Chapter 5

Mycroft Holmes came walking onto the ward around two in the afternoon a paper sack in his hand. He took one look at John Watson and sighed. "They said you were here."

John, who had been coloring once again, looked up at the familiar voice. "Mycroft…I'm not sure what my reaction should be towards you so I will just say 'hello'".

"Understood," The elder brother of his once flat mate said as he looked around the room. "Where is Sherlock?"

"Not sure." John admitted and it was the truth. Sherlock had been absent from the main room of the ward since they came in from outside that morning. He hadn't even seen the other man at lunch.

"Pity, I have some things he asked for." Mycroft said as he looked down at the plain brown paper sack.

Hank came walking up to the pair and smiled. "Good afternoon Mycroft." He said showing he was used to the older brother of Sherlock wondering around the ward. "Sherlock is in his bedroom, he has not been out much today."

"That is surprising." Mycroft admitted as he looked at John. "I would have thought he would be more present at activities with John here." He shrugged, "Either way I need to speak with him and give him these items I brought."

"Have they been looked over by the team?" Hank questioned even though he knew the answer. Mycroft had been coming to see Sherlock almost every day since he arrived at New Haven so he knew the drill on getting items 'checked-in' before giving them to his brother.

"Of course." Mycroft said. "May I go to his room?"

Hank nodded, "I make no guarantees what kind of mood he'll be in."

Mycroft nodded, "Understood." He said before walking down the hall and knocked on his brother's door.

"Go away Mycroft I don't want visitors today." Sherlock said from inside his room. He was lying on his bed staring at the wall just feeling lousy and sorry for himself.

"Sherlock I brought you some things." Mycroft tried but he could hear the depression in his brother's voice…something he hated more than the anal retentiveness or manic hyperactivity. He would never tell anybody but he blamed himself for Sherlock's psychological break 6 months earlier. If only he had gotten Sherlock out of Serbia sooner than maybe he would still just be the slightly 'off' sociopathic detective with Asperger's tendencies from London. But after his physical scars were healed it was obvious the emotional and mental were staying. The two week long stay in a Serbian psychiatric hospital was not ideal so Mycroft got him out of there as quick as he could but not soon enough in his book.

At first he had thought of simply sending him back to Backer's Street and letting him just get back to life. But realized he didn't have a plan for returning his younger brother from the dead. So, taking his medical records and current behavior with them from Serbia he admitted him into New Haven right away, which had ended up being a good thing since his behaviors continued even back in London and away from danger.

Now here they were 6 months later and even though Sherlock had good days…the bad days still out-numbered them and today seemed like one of those days.

Sherlock heard what his brother said but didn't make a move to get up from where he was lying. Instead he sighed loudly in a whoa-as-me way a sign he DID want attention but didn't know how to ask for it.

Mycroft got the memo and opened Sherlock's door and propped it open like he was told to do by orderlies on numerous occasions. He walked into the room and sat down in his normal chair. "What is going on Sherlock? Are you feeling alright?"

"Perfectly fine indeed." Sherlock said as he turned so he was facing Mycroft but still lying on the bed. "You brought me something?"

"Why don't you sit up and we will look at what I brought."

Sherlock seemed unsure of this request but soon sat up so he was sitting Indian Style in the middle of the bed. "What did you bring?" he asked again, beginning to come out of his shell a bit.

Mycroft handed the paper bag to his brother and tried to get comfortable in the very uncomfortable chair. "It's mostly things you mentioned wanting."

"Okay," Sherlock said as he pulled items out of the bag. There were two more leather bound journals, color crayons, coconut shampoo with matching body wash and a stuffed bear. Without thinking how it would look Sherlock grabbed the bear first and pulled it into his arms giving it a good cuddle.

'Okaaay' Mycroft thought to himself but learned not to question some of the thing his brother did as of late. As long as he wasn't getting calls that his brother was in a seclusion room or trying to harm himself, or that poor soul Charlie he was a happy man. "You like it then."

Sherlock realized what he was doing in front of his brother and quickly sat the bear down. "It's satisfactory."

"Right." Mycroft said trying not to laugh. "So how are you handling having John Watson as a room neighbor again?"

"Interesting." Sherlock replied as he was sniffing the shampoo. "He tried to kill me this morning."

That WAS interesting but Mycroft could understand John being upset with everything that had happened. "What did he do?"

"He attacked me at breakfast and tried to strangle me." Sherlock showed his neck where there were visible finger print bruises there.

This angered Mycroft, wasn't it the job of the orderlies to prevent things like that from happening.

"He was then taken to seclusion…John Bloody Watson was secluded this morning on his first day on the ward." Sherlock said sounding dumbfounded by the whole thing. "He always had a temper."

"So you two are not mates anymore?" Mycroft questioned.

Sherlock seemed to think about that, he never completely understood what it meant to be a friend but he figured if he had one it would be John. "I think we are okay now…we played basketball."

This had Mycroft choking on his own saliva, did his brother just say he played basketball? "Excuse me?"

"You know where you shoot a ball through a hoop…"

"I bloody well know what it is."

Sherlock was confused if Mycroft knew what it was why did he ask? "If you already know…"

"I didn't mean it like that….never mind Sherlock." Mycroft never completely understood why his brother didn't understand some things but then could talk your ear off about others. The psychiatrists and therapists tried to explain it to him. Supposedly, Sherlock had a disorder that was a mild form of autism called Asperger's disorder which made him a very concreate thinker and often have what the doctors explained to as a 'thing' he was really good at and really loved upon no other thing. In Sherlock's case it was anything to do with science and solving problems. But while he loved those things other things such as friendships and paying the rent was completely confusing to him.

And then there were times he got utterly frustrated with himself for not understanding societal norms that he would throw what could only be described as temper tantrums, which is what was about to happen right then.

Sherlock didn't like the fact that Mycroft wad dismissing him, "No…tell me…why would you ask me something that you already know? I need to know these things!"

Mycroft's eyes went wide, "Sherlock I simply was confused how YOU would be playing basketball and used the wrong words to ask."

"Oh." Sherlock said and Mycroft was thankful to have saved himself from having to call for help to calm Sherlock down.

"Well John asked me to play so we did. I was doing really well too but then asked him to stop because I had to check the ants." Sherlock rambled. "You know they are mating again…third time this month. I never realized how the mating season of ants worked until now and it's fascinating."

And this is what you get when you have a Bipolar individual with Asperger's. Somebody who talks a mile a minute about something that most people could care less about, at least Mycroft didn't care about the mating habits of ants but he smiled and nodded in all the right places to keep his brother on even keel for his afternoon activities.

Soon Carl was coming to the door and giving it a light knock. "Excuse me guys but visiting hours are up and it's almost art time if you want to come Sherlock.

"Can I use my new color crayons?"

Carl almost laughed but decided not to. "I am sure Ginger would love for you to join them and use your new colors."

Mycroft stood up and smiled, "Glad to see you are willing to join the group this afternoon, Sherlock. I hope my mobile stays quiet this evening."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "I never PLAN on being secluded or getting into any other type of trouble."

"I know you don't." Mycroft said and he meant that. He knew Sherlock was doing the best Sherlock could do at the moment. "I will see you tomorrow…and be nice to John." With that he walked out of the room leaving Sherlock with his random items.

Before art group Sherlock put his new hygiene items in his shower and made his bed. Of course he had to put the stuffed bear resting against his pillow because from what he had learned that was what you did with such toys. He also put his journals on his bookshelf with his other used journals and grabbed his crayons before leaving the room. When he got to the nurses' station he thought of something and knocked on the window.

A nurse came to the window and smiled at Sherlock. "How's it going Sherlock? I hear you've been hiding out most the day."

Sherlock sighed, "Can you put my name on these with a permanent marking pen?" he said shoving the crayons at her in a not so graceful sort of way.

The nurse almost didn't catch the crayons but thankfully did or THAT would have been a disaster. "Sure." She told the older man and went about doing his request.

"You coming to art group?" John questioned as he walked up beside Sherlock. He was happy to see that his friend was out of his room again. He always knew Mycroft was good for the other man.

Sherlock nodded, "Waiting for my crayons."

"We need to have our own stuff?"

"No I just do." Sherlock replied and then smiled at the nurse when she handed the 24 count pack of crayons back to him. "Thank you." He said a bit awkwardly but it was something he was supposed to be working on.

John smirked a little but didn't say anything as the two of them headed to the art room. Inside they found Tasha, Jennifer and Charlie all gathering supplies with who John learned was Ginger the art therapist.

"Hello gentlemen." Ginger said giving them a big smile. "You must be John. And welcome Sherlock."

John waved and took a seat next to Tasha and Sherlock sat on the other side.

"We are having open art studio this afternoon so you can choose what you want to make." Ginger went on to explain, mostly to John, what kind of things there were to do.

John decided he was going to make a collage out of magazine cutouts while he watched Sherlock begin coloring a rather elaborate picture of ants with his color crayons. He wasn't sure what it was with Sherlock and ants but then again he hadn't seen the detective for 6 months.

"Interesting." Sherlock said glancing at John's collage. "Didn't know you liked cats."

"Me neither," John laughed when he realized he had just made a collage of all cats and cat related items.

"Well I think it looks nice." Jennifer said giving John a big smile. "I like cats."

"You also like John." Tasha added and got elbowed in the arm for her words.

"Hey you two." Ginger warned. "Work on your projects not mess with each other."

John chose to ignore what Jennifer said and continued to add to his cat picture, still having no idea why he was making something with cats. Quite frankly cats scared him to death.

"That is very interesting and wonderfully done Sherlock." Ginger said as she glanced at the man's 'ant' picture.

Sherlock both nodded and shook his head at the same time. "It IS interesting but not very good. The body parts of the ant cannot be defined well enough with the crayons…"

"Just say 'thank you', Sherlock." Ginger said with a smile and then went on to look at the girls and Charlie's pieces of art.

"Just say thank you Sherlock" The dark haired man repeated sarcastically causing John to snort and then laugh fully.

Sherlock looked at John, "Can I come back and live with you?"

John was taken aback by Sherlock's words and the intense way he was looking at him. "We'll cross that bridge when it comes to it, okay?" and for some reason he had the feeling he had to clarify what he meant. "When we both get out of this place we'll check on Baker Street."

"What do you mean check on it?" Sherlock was confused but rightly so.

John wasn't sure how to tell his friend that he had moved out of the Baker Street flat a few months earlier and was now living with Mary.

"I don't live there anymore, Sherlock." John said figuring he would be honest.

This caught Sherlock off guard and he looked at John like he was completely bananas. "Where do you live then?"

"I…I…" John sighed, "I live with my girlfriend, Mary."

This caught Sherlock even MORE off guard and he did something that nobody would have expected he started laughing…hysterically. "

This caught the attention of everybody in the room and had Ginger worried. "Sherlock are you okay?" she questioned going over to him and crouching down. "Is something wrong?"

"He…has a girlfriend." Sherlock laughed to the point he was going to piss his pants. "Excuse…me…" he laughed before dashing out of the room.

Hank was on it and quickly rushed after Sherlock. "Sherlock come back…you cannot run off like that, especially not from art group." He then got this scary thought 'what if he has scissors'. Thinking that he grabbed Carl on the way to Sherlock's room for extra protection.

When they got there the door was still propped open from Mycroft's visit so both orderlies automatically felt better. If Sherlock was going to hurt himself he would have shut the door they figured.

Sherlock came out of the bathroom with a start, why was everybody standing around his room. "What's going on?" he questioned completely and utterly confused.

"We came to see what was going on with you. You ran out of art group like a bat out of hell."

"I had to use the bathroom." Sherlock said and then remembered why and started laughing again.

"See he was doing this before he ran out of the room." Hank whispered to Carl.

"Sherlock what is going on?" Carl tried again.

Sherlock stopped laughing long enough to smirk, "John has a girlfriend."

"Yes he does." Hank said with a nod. "Why is that funny?"

"Because he's in love with me."


End file.
